I Took My Husband’s Phone In For Repair. The Technician, A Family Friend, Pulled Me Aside And Said,

Thinner now. Transparent. “All right,” he said.

“Let’s talk honestly. Yes, I’m planning to sell the practice. Yes, Laura is helping me.

We’ve become close. I wasn’t sure how to tell you.”

“How to tell me you’re planning to leave?” I asked. “Or how to tell me you’ve been writing a future that doesn’t include me?”

The words hung in the air between us.

Robert’s face went pale, then flushed with anger. “That’s insane,” he said, but his voice wavered. “I would never—”

“January 12th,” I said.

He froze. “That’s the date on your scheduled messages. The ones where you tell Laura—L, as you call her—that everything is done and your new life is beginning.

I’ve read them all, Robert. Every word.”

He sat down heavily on the sofa, face in his hands. For a long moment, he didn’t speak.

When he finally looked up, there were tears in his eyes. “I never meant for you to find out like this,” he said quietly. “Stella, I’m so sorry, but you have to understand.

I’ve been unhappy for years. Decades, maybe. This marriage, this life… it’s been suffocating me.

Laura makes me feel alive again.”

It was the tears that shocked me most. They looked real. Perhaps they were.

Perhaps he believed his own justification. “So leave,” I said. “Get a divorce.

You don’t need to destroy me to be with her.”

“It’s not that simple.” He wiped his eyes, and now his voice took on a pleading quality. “The practice, the house, everything we’ve built—it’s all joint assets. A divorce would destroy me financially.

The practice is worth nearly $2 million, Stella. I’ve worked my entire life for that. I can’t give half of it away.”

“So you’d rather erase me?” I asked.

“No. God, no. I never—” He stopped.

Seemed to reconsider. “The messages weren’t serious. They were fantasy.

Roleplaying. Laura and I—we were just—”

“Don’t.” Something broke inside me. Some last thread of the woman I’d been.

“Don’t insult me with more lies. I know about the condo in Boca. I know about the money you’ve already given her.

I know about her history. I know everything.”

Robert’s face went hard. “If you know everything,” he said slowly, “then you know you can’t stop this.” His voice was flat, almost bored, as if he were discussing a difficult patient.

“You have no power here, Stella. You never did.”

And then he said the words that made my blood turn to ice. “If you try to tell anyone else, I’ll have you evaluated.

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